


A Calculated Risk (AKA 'What Happens When Morgan Sleeps on the Couch')

by reellifejaneway



Series: The Accidental OTP: A Saints Row AU [6]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Accidental OTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day of mistakes, Cassandra Davenport has finally had enough - and orders her lover, M!Morgan Prescott, to keep his hands to himself. The hard way. (Literally.) Except that sleeping on the couch for one night seems to have made matters worse for both of them. And neither one of them is willing to admit defeat. So how do two horny lovers sort out their repressed desires? Why with a bit of competition, of course.</p><p>Shameless Accidental OTP smut (because we can't help ourselves). Cassandra Davenport belongs to knightcommanderalenko. M!Morgan Prescott belongs to me (reellifejaneway). The world of Saints Row and Steelport belongs to Volition Inc. and Deep Silver. I'm just a fangirl who can't let go...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Calculated Risk (AKA 'What Happens When Morgan Sleeps on the Couch')

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightcommanderalenko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightcommanderalenko/gifts).



> Confused much? So were we. But if you'd like some context, this AU happened when two crazy friends began playing co-op.... and then somehow decided that our characters were perfect for a new ship. Do we regret a thing? Well... Sometimes. But not really. (We are more than aware of our collective fuck-up.)

There was nothing else for it, he realised, staring up at the ceiling and grinding his teeth for the fifth time in these past five minutes.

Morgan Prescott _hated_ sleeping on the couch.

Even with a deep-seat leather settee at his disposal, sleeping alone with a hard-on was always far from comfortable. No matter the setting. Especially when the very woman who caused it was lying on the enormous double bed across the room.

Fast asleep.

She had driven him to the very brink, had teased him relentlessly, even made out with him in the elevator — and then had swatted his ass and told him to get comfortable on the master suite couch. Morgan knew Cassandra Davenport liked to play games, but this? This was just downright _revenge_.

Petty revenge. For getting blood on her white leather car seat.

Well how was he supposed to know that the Morning Star specialist he’d shot had left a stain on his trouser knees?

Morgan let out a quiet huff, rolling onto his side — away from her — to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Steelport’s lights danced in a blur of colour but he hardly saw them. He licked his lips, preoccupied by the sensation of his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers, willing himself to stay quiet as he took himself in hand.

 _Fuck_. Just the slightest touch had him sighing, his hips jerking forward, his cock throbbing in a silent plea for more friction. _Any_ friction.

Morgan’s eyes fluttered shut.

_Yes_ _… Yes. Just like that._

He imagined her lips against him, but the feel of his rough palm wasn’t quite enough to fulfil the fantasy. Cass’ tongue was velvet. Her lips were wickedly red, gloriously full and enticing. How he loved to taste them. And _god_ did she know how to use that mouth. Just the thought had him swelling in his hand, his body responding to the thought by pulsating furiously.

“Yes…” He barely caught the whisper before it passed his lips. Before it incriminated him beyond any return.

The last thing he wanted, after all, was for Cass to wake up and find him masturbating on her couch. This was supposed to be his punishment. He was ‘banned’ as it were, from touching her — at least until she decided he’d spent enough time suffering for his mistake. Touching himself wasn’t _explicitly_ stated as a violation of that rule. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to push his luck and wind up on the couch downstairs instead.

Morgan bit down hard on his lip and stroked himself harder, pausing to trail his thumb through the precum already beading at the head—

—And that’s when he heard it.

A needy moan, barely audible, from the other side of the bedroom.

He paused, his cock protesting the stilling of his hand, but he simply _had_ to be sure that he’d heard correctly.

Several torturous seconds passed before the sound came again. A whimper this time; breathless, and yet not quite muffled enough to pass for background noise.

Morgan blinked, not quite ready to alert her to the fact he was very much awake, and very intently _listening_. So he simply stayed. And _god_ was he in pain now.

Another moan — a stifled expletive.

He grinned and slowly propped himself up on his elbow, taking in the dimly lit scene across the room.

Cass’ bed was lit with a faint wash of light, her bedlinen rippling with crimson shadows as her form moved beneath it. Legs shifting, spreading, knees trembling… Her red hair fanned out behind her like a wild halo on her pillow. Even from here, Morgan could see that her head was thrown back, lips parted in a silent gasp when her visible hand — which only moments before had been cupping and stroking one full breast — slipped beneath the covers. And as her arm began to flex, joining the other in the work it had already begun, Cass let out a breathless mewl of pleasure.

_Oh my god—_

If he thought his erection had been throbbing before, boy was he wrong. Now it was _excruciating._

He must have made a noise, because suddenly Cass paused, arching up to stare at him from her compromised position.

Not that Morgan was in much better shape. His hand was still down his boxers, and she knew it too.

 

* * *

 

She honestly should have expected as much of him.

Morgan was hardly self-controlled, even at the best of times.

But it was herself she was now bewildered at. For Cass had fully intended to simply sleep, leave her mischievous lover to suffer alone on the couch. Cold, untouched — and so very hard.

Oh she _knew_ how aroused he’d been in the elevator. Kisses of that intensity between them almost always resulted in sex: the desperate and rough kind of sex that unfolded against the nearest wall or piece of furniture. The kind of sex that was so fucking wild they would have to muffle their cries against each other’s lips; that was so hot their skin would be slick and burning; that was so deeply satisfying that they would be left panting and clinging to each other as they tumbled back to reality.

And that was exactly the direction they had been falling in before. Morgan’s hips had been grinding against hers insistently. He’d pushed Cass back against the elevator wall, rasping in a positively filthy tone of voice against her ear. And _oh_ how he’d bucked into her when her hand had slipped down his jeans, his teeth nipping insistently at her neck, demanding more and more…

Cassandra, however, had no intention of anything beyond teasing.

When she’d abandoned him there, to lean his balled fists against the elevator wall as he attempted to get a grip on his arousal, she’d nearly laughed aloud. There had been an impish glint in his eyes before. It had rapidly been overwhelmed by a flash of disappointment and then concealed just as quickly.

Of course Morgan hadn’t wanted to show her just how frustrated he was. Or the fact that he hadn’t been able to regain control over his body. Naturally he’d waited until he _thought_ she’d gone to sleep to take care of his needs.

What Cassandra hadn’t expected was for her traitorous body to demand the same service.

Lying in bed, Cass had tried her utmost to ignore the heat pooled between her thighs. She needed the sleep. It had been a week since she’d actually slept a full night — admittedly for similar reasons — but the sound of Morgan’s rhythmic breathing from across the room and the occasional shift of his body against the leather settee was just too much. Add to that the fact that her mind was replaying every moment in that elevator: the sound of his raw moans, the press of his body as he’d practically fucked her with her clothes on, the feeling of his hot mouth claiming hers so feverishly…

It had been the last straw.

Cass gave in.

 _God,_ Morgan had left her pulsing and soaked for him. Her breasts were so tender, nipples puckered as they rubbed against the satin fabric of her lingerie, begging for attention. She bit her lip and rolled the aching peaks between her fingertips. A light tug made her back arch, the movement spurring a release of hot, slick desire between her legs. Her thighs rubbed together in a vain attempt to staunch her lust.

But it was not working. Not in the slightest. Cass simply couldn’t put her needs off any longer.

Her mind now conjured an image of Morgan propped up on his elbows above her, his eyes dark with longing and his lips reddened from kissing her relentlessly. Cass could almost feel his hand fondling her swollen breast. In her mind they picked up right where they had left off in the elevator: his arm hooked beneath her knee, easing her legs apart and opening her body to him. Cass mimicked the action in reality. With just the right movement, his barely-clothed erection could grind — _oh fuck yes, just there,_ she pleaded silently _—_ against her aching clit. Lightning sparked beneath her half-closed eyelids.

She slid her fingers under her down between her thighs with a barely-contained groan, finding her body was only too ready. Suddenly she was cursing the babydoll nightie and panties she’d chosen to wear to bed that evening. They had been specifically to torture Morgan — to show him exactly what he _wasn_ _’t_ going to touch — but now her plan was backfiring. Her chosen instrument of torture was only getting in the way of her own pleasure. Cass eased the panties over her hips and already she could feel how damp the fabric was…

Slowly. Quietly. She didn’t want to move too much and disturb the man across the other side of the room.

The sheets rustled softly as she shifted, her knees spreading even further. Her arousal was bordering on painful now.

The moment her fingers grazed her clit, a lascivious moan tore from her lips.

But she paused mid-stroke when she heard a responding sigh.

Cass’ throat closed around the last gulp of air she’d sucked in, her eyes flying open.

Morgan was very much awake, and staring straight at her. Cass would have been mortified — _if_ she wasn’t already so damn turned on.

Her lover was rolled over to face her, with one muscular arm resting under his head to make the posture more comfortable. His mussed white hair was lit with a violet back-glow from the city lights. Delightfully rumpled from his attempts to sleep, but so very far from innocent. The poor man had frozen in surprise at her having caught him; his hand still very visibly cupped around the base of his erection.

Cass immediately knew what he had been doing. Just as much as he knew her secret, too.

Somehow, that revelation only made her desire burn hotter.

Pushing herself upright, Cass made a point to meet his gaze, smirking a little as she reached for another pillow. Then, leaning back against it, she kicked away the bedlinen.

Morgan’s eyes blew wide, shimmering black at the sight of her bare skin.

Cass nearly laughed again. Her blood was raging through her veins, demanding satisfaction, and seeing the predatory look that came over her lover’s face, she knew that he was in agony too.

_Good._

This, ironically, was even better revenge than what she had initially planned.

Her naked legs had unconsciously twined back together in her initial embarrassment, so now Cass made a point of folding her knees up toward her stomach, curling her toes into the discarded sheets. Meanwhile her hands parted the slit in the babydoll nightie. She paused to toy with the satin ribbon holding the lingerie together — the only thing keeping her full breasts from Morgan’s view.

And _god_ was he reacting.

He pushed himself up on his elbow now, the hand in his boxers suddenly resuming its rapacious stroking action.

Cass bit her lip, and tugged at one end of the slender ribbon. It came away so very easily. As the cool air hit her freed flesh she gasped, relishing the sensation of goosebumps raking across her chest and down her spine. She made a show of her pleasure by arching her back against the pillows and thrusting her breasts forward.

She grinned openly this time when she saw Morgan’s eyelids flutter. His hips arched up into his hand, his fingers squeezing a little now as he struggled to keep his pace.

Did he just curse under his breath?

Either way, Cass knew that she couldn’t deny herself anymore. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to make him suffer with her.

Her hands bunched up her hair, bodily writhing against the bed just for Morgan’s benefit. She clawed the tips of her fingers down her neck - just hard enough that he could see the faint trails that faded in their wake - grazing around the full curves of her breasts. For a moment she toyed with them. Deft fingers tugged at her nipples then released them to move further down, raking her fingers along her sides.

_Oh god this is really working_ _…_

And she wasn’t just thinking of Morgan anymore.

Cass reached out and clasped her knees. Slowly she spread them wide, shivering at the feeling of being so exposed, and so _wet._ A groan of his name slipped by her lips, half choked when her fingers began to squeeze at the inside of her thighs.

Her body was _pulsing_ , her heart quickening at the touch now so close to where she needed it to be.

She opened her eyes again — not realising she’d let them drift shut — just in time to see Morgan discard his underwear. And _fuck_ was he a glorious sight. His chest heaving, sweat beading in the dip between his pectorals, the faint sheen a stark contrast against the faint trail of dark hair that curled there. Cass followed the line of hair with her eyes to see that he was, in fact, even more enlarged than she’d imagined. Now Morgan turned onto his stomach, easing the light pillow he was sleeping on earlier beneath his hips, and started to _thrust._

Cass moaned.

Only now that he was propped up on his elbows, did Cass resume touching herself again. Her folds were swollen, slick, dripping with need. She slid her fingers back and forth between them and whimpered at the delicious fever growing inside her. Her body was so _open_ , her legs shaking as she held herself back from pushing her fingers inside.

Not yet.

Instead she focused on watching Morgan, deriving as much pleasure as she could from him.

His display was just downright _carnal_.

Those sinewy shoulders flexed gloriously as he fucked the pillow, his back muscles tensing and sending rippling shadows across his skin. Animalistic grunts fell from his mouth like the strains of a song Cass couldn’t hear often — or loudly — enough. When Cass began to circle her clit with her slick fingertips, he released a shuddering breath, and began rocking harder.

Morgan had been on edge too long, and they both knew it.

Cass bit down on her lip. Already her body was screaming for release, her fingers finding _that_ spot that struck a burning balance between tantalization and agony. She let herself ride that wave of stimulation for a while longer. It simply felt too good, too perfect, and the more she coaxed that wicked yearning to life, the wetter she became. Her body hummed, the walls of her sex clenching and fluttering, pleading for more.

Oh how she wanted to be taken…

Her eyes met Morgan’s from across the room. Not a word had been breathed between the two, not since they’d argued earlier, and right now words were not required. Everything Morgan wanted to say was right there in his smoldering gaze: _That_ _’s it, babe. Just like that. God I love watching you move._

She moaned, eyes searching out her lover’s body. Morgan’s cock was so urgently red, rigid. The skin glistened in the low light; she could almost make out the throbbing veins beneath the skin of his erection. She bit her lip, longing for the feeling of his weight rocking into the welcoming cradle between her legs; aching for his thick shaft pounding into her instead, stretching her over and over until she screamed with ecstasy.

 _But that would require admitting defeat_.

And she refused to resign herself just yet. Her body accepted her fingers without any resistance, yielding as she began to thrust to a rhythm of her own. Already she was gasping for air, her breasts bouncing with every urgent rock of her hips into her own hand.

_Fuck yes!_

She fell back against the bed. Suddenly she didn’t even care if Morgan was watching. Her pleasure was already so intense that she could barely think. But she knew herself well enough that if she had to, she would hold back her orgasm if it meant losing to him.

Their actions had now become driven by an unspoken competition.

A game to see which of them could push the other to frenzied completion first.

 

* * *

 

Morgan huffed and bunched up the pillow more. His tempo became voracious, his erection straining for a release that he was doing his utmost to fulfil and deny simultaneously.

He knew he was losing. Cass had been tormenting him all night and he couldn’t take it much more. This game was a whole other level, and it was destroying his resolve.

The sound of flesh slapping fabric was nowhere as satisfying as when it was Cass beneath him. The feeling of her body engulfing him, the look in her eyes as she pushed back against him, was something Morgan could only imagine right now. But watching her like this…

Seeing her sex welcome those lithe fingers plunging inside repeatedly, her cries escalating now she knew he was deriving pleasure from this too. Perspiration formed between her breasts and ran down her stomach in shining trails he _longed_ to follow with his tongue. Morgan had practically growled aloud when she’d moaned his name.

 _Fuck it all_ he wanted to ravish her.

He was moments away from throwing caution to the wind and joining her on the bed regardless. Morgan hissed and dug his fingers into the pillow beneath him, driving down hard, imagining it was Cass’ hip. In his mind, he was holding her against him so firmly that no doubt there would be bruises later. He grinned wickedly to himself, contemplating tugging that devious hand from her sex, pinning her free hand down and tasting her arousal on her fingertips. Then he would lower his filthy lips to hers and show her with his kiss just how _fully_ he intended to fuck her.

But right now he could do none of those things.

Now he could only watch. And it was driving him _mad_.

The sight of her body splayed open like this was utterly agonising. Morgan could feel that urgent pressure building in his stomach, burning at the base of his spine, every furious thrust against the cushion reminding him of how desperately he wanted it to be her.

 _Cass_ _…_ He stopped short of hissing her name aloud, instead closing his eyes against the trickles of sweat that were falling from his brow. _Oh babe, you are killing me._

But shutting out the image simply wasn’t helping. He could still hear her groaning for him, the bed squeaking faintly as she bucked and chased her orgasm.

He wanted to help her reach it so badly.

Morgan’s ears were ringing, a buzzing lighting every nerve ending on fire. His shoulders _burned_. And oh _fuck_ he was getting close now. He forced his eyes back to Cass, feeling his balls tighten in warning when she arched and fell back to the mattress with an insatiable rhythm. Her thighs were shaking with the effort. Morgan could see the trickling sweat that made her skin glisten, the arousal coating her hand, the strands of red hair that clung to her forehead…

He no longer cared if he won or lost. He wanted _release_ , he wanted to—

_—Oh fuck. Fuck_ _…_

“Cass, I can’t…. _Ohhh_ fuck. I’m coming,” he gasped, his resolve shattering as he took himself back in hand again.

The added heat of his palm was both his salvation and his undoing. Rising up on his knees, Morgan began to pump himself furiously, moaning at the rush of ecstasy that pulsed from his cock to his toes and all the way back to his skull. His climax buzzed like the high of a drug, blocking out the world for a moment: white pleasure seared his vision, overwhelmed his sense of thought, overtook and pushed him to the point of _pain._ And then at last he felt the rush of heavenly release. Morgan was vaguely aware of the milky liquid dripping down his stomach, pooling stickily in his hand. But it was the sheer _violence_ of the spasms from his cock that had him crying out, his voice broken and raw.

Finally, he let his head droop back with relief. The exertion had drained him and Morgan collapsed, utterly spent, against the settee.

 

* * *

 

Cass couldn’t tear her eyes away when he came. She was transfixed, devouring every second of Morgan’s shameless display. Her fingers drove deeper, harder, curling now as she saw his ass clench, the globes of his cheeks flexing into each thrust. She wondered how they would look with her fingers clinging to them. Morgan’s hair swung as he moved and she choked back the desire to bite at his stubble-covered jaw. Cass ached to feel his desperate breath hot against her cheek. His stomach convulsed around the first suppressed pulses of his orgasm, and oh how Cass’ body thrilled. She all but arched off the bed, chanting his name and imploring him to just _come._

He gasped out a warning. But her own mind was drowning in lust; she could barely decipher her own words. She heard Morgan call her name and then he swore, his hips bearing down hard as he let himself go.

She’d won the game. But right now that wasn’t even on her mind.

Her eyes were firmly locked on the way Morgan threw his head back, his mouth hanging open. Maddening cries were wrung from his chest with every squeeze of his hand against his cock. His usual deep voice cracked under the strain, hot-blooded and frantic as he shouted his pleasure to the ceiling. And behold his pleasure she did: his seed spurting across his abdomen in thick ropes, his chest heaving as he slowly came back to himself, the aftershocks making his cock twitch even as he slowly softened.

_Oh god_ _…_

Something inside her snapped. Cass pushed herself harder now, her body bending to a desire she no longer had any control over. Dewy moisture trickled down her fingers, soaking the bedlinen beneath her, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was the times he’d come inside her, over her, the echoes of his frantic moans still ringing loud in her ears…

Colours flashed across her vision. But movement caught her eye and she looked up just long enough to see Morgan running one broad, strong hand down his chest. Her breath caught in her throat. Was he doing this _deliberately_ …? The thick dark curls on his abdomen were soaked beneath his fingers, glistening in the half-light. His grey eyes glimmered with a smile when he purposefully trailed his fingertips through the fluid that glistened on his stomach.

Cass groaned, inwardly rolling her eyes at the damned arrogance of the man. But it was enough to push her to the very edge. She keened, squeezing her eyes shut and driving her fingers as hard as she could into _that_ spot. The high thrummed in her ears, intensifying with each rush of blood to her brain, every time she had to _remind_ herself just to breathe.

Dizzy. _Harder!_ Teetering on the very brink of the abyss and Cass didn’t care. It felt so _fucking amazing_.

Her body jolted when she cursed and forced her hand to stop, breathing heavily as she momentarily denied herself the climax she so desperately needed. A little pain now, just for a few seconds. Cass knew it would be all the more worth it when she reached that point again in a few seconds—

She heard the leather creak from across the room and she immediately searched Morgan’s silhouette out. He had almost recovered his breath now, slowly rising on his haunches and stepping off the settee.

_Wait, no you can_ _’t come over here!_

Morgan flicked his sweat-tangled silver hair out of his eyes and grinned at her wickedly. Something in his gaze warned her that he, oddly enough, had no intention of touching her.

Oh no. Cass’ stomach twisted when it hit her: he’s changed up the game.

_That son of a bitch._

Morgan’s lips twitched as if in silent laughter. She stared unabashedly into his eyes and resumed her punishing pace. His gaze didn’t leave her face at first. No, he took her glare and gave it back in equal measure, an infuriating — searing — glint in his brilliant irises. Almost as if to say “ _don_ _’t you dare stop now.”_

Cass huffed and lifted her hips, pumping them into her hand, chasing her orgasm even harder than before. _Oh I won_ _’t._

Her feet pushed down hard against the mattress, her ears only vaguely discerning the raunchy squeak of the springs flexing beneath her body. She was focused on one goal now. The fuse was burning lower and lower with every circle her fingers made over her clit, her body subconsciously counting down to her impending destruction. Shock-waves were already racing across her skin, taking root in her every nerve, her very breath, making her shake with the sheer effort it took just to climb higher and higher — back to that precipice she longed to hurl herself off again and again.

And throughout it all he watched.

The corner of that lewd mouth curled up into a smirk as Morgan lifted his sinful fingers to his mouth. Cass mapped every illuminated sinew in his arms as he did so. Worse, her mind imagined him doing just that to _her_ fingers now. Morgan paused when he withdrew the digits, twirling his tongue around them sinfully just for her gratification. That same evil tongue darted out to wet his lip, leaving a slick shine just where she longed most to sink her teeth in, to steal the laughter from his very lungs before it escaped them.

_You_ _… ass… Morgan…_

He chucked throatily. Had she muttered that aloud?

An arch of one devious brow confirmed it. _You love it_.

“Fuck you,” Cass seethed, shifting onto her side and finding a new position that didn’t involve meeting his gaze.

Now she held nothing back. Her orgasm was looming over her like a relentless tidal wave; she couldn’t stop even if she wanted. Turning her cheek into the pillow, she rode every impulse, struggling to breathe against the pounding waves of euphoria that were already washing over her.

But she still wasn’t quite there. Close. So _close_.

Sweat trailed down the curve of her spine. She shivered as it caressed her skin — the chilled finger of an absent lover.

_Morgan_ _…_

His name rose unbidden to her lips as she chased that crest. Cass groaned aloud, her lips parted and brows furrowed. She could taste the sweat in the air, the scent of arousal and sex. It drove her higher, and with that precipice so close now…

Cass curled her fingers deeper and rubbed furiously.

“Oh _god_ please, plea—” The words caught in her throat when, finally and without much warning, her body gave in.

Cass let herself go, her voice cresting in a triumphant scream — a shameless declaration of her ecstasy.

A consuming implosion of sensation: fire and ice across her skin, a roar of noise so relentless it sent her mind gloriously blank. She felt as though her body was soaring and plummeting simultaneously. White searing heat erupted from her sex, her muscles contracting against her last conscious motions to perpetuate the orgasm. But truth be told, she barely noticed it when her hands stilled. Cass couldn’t even tell whether she’d arched into the orgasm or collapsed beneath its weight. At this point, she couldn’t care less.

Wild tremors gripped her and when they began to ebb away, they left her lying weak and ragged in their wake. She barely had the strength to slide her own fingers from inside her _. Shit,_ her body was still excruciatingly sensitive and her trembling walls squeezed down fiercely at the motion. She cursed breathlessly.

_That was insane._

Sprawling onto her back, she tried to calm her frantic breaths and then urged her tired eyes open.

Morgan was _still_ standing at the end of the bed.

She bit back a furious curse and immediately reached for a spare pillow. Never mind that her arms were still shaking from the near-brutal effort she’d just put herself through. But right now it was the vexatious lilt to his sturdy shoulders, the tantalising way he’d just absently left his fingers pressed to his lip, that was really pissing her off.

Cass held the pillow aloft, “Go. To. Bed. Morgan.”

He gave a roguish tweak of his ass even as he moved back to the settee. “Oh I am.” Morgan tossed a wink over his shoulder at her, adding, “Have sweet dreams, babe. I know I will.”

 _Bastard._ Nevertheless, Cass stifled a laugh behind her arm.

He was a complete scoundrel. But at least he was a damned attractive one. Cass sat up then to study his dimly-illuminated form as Morgan settled in to sleep on his stomach. Then she sighed and let herself fall back against the pillows. Her perspiration was cooling against her skin and she unconsciously began to shiver. And at that moment she almost regretted the absence of a pair of warm arms around her.

_But then again_ _…. Still not quite enough to give in._

Because when it came to her victories, Cass knew that sometimes losing was a calculated — and even acceptable — risk.


End file.
